


Can't Sleep

by direwolfjon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Gendrya, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sharing a Bed, Slightly Angry Sex, with surprisingly soft afterglow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 19:34:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21104843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/direwolfjon/pseuds/direwolfjon
Summary: "I'm sorry, Sansa." Arya shrugged. "I was sure the website said there were two rooms with one double bed and two with two single beds." She tapped her chin, frowning. "Or wait,  was it three with-"Whatever," Sansa huffed. "It doesn't matter what you think the website said. I'm not sharing a bed with Jon!"ORJon thinks Sansa hates him, she believes the feeling is mutual, but in reality, they're just dealing with a case of belligerent sexual tension.Cue Arya's plan to make these two bang!





	Can't Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Jonsa Week, Day 2: Tropes
> 
> Sorry if this has more typos than usual. I really wanted to post it on the right day!

"I'm sorry, Sansa." Arya shrugged. "I was sure the website said there were two rooms with one double bed and two with two single beds." She tapped her chin, frowning. "Or wait, was it three with-

"Whatever," Sansa huffed. "It doesn't matter what you think the website said. I'm not sharing a bed with Jon!"

Sansa had been looking forward to this weekend away with all of her siblings. Arya had offered to organise the trip this year and she'd booked their Landal 10-person chalet.

"It's only for a couple of nights!" Arya bit back.

Sansa lifted her chin. "Why don't you share with him then?"

"And where are you going to sleep?" Arya retorted with a dramatic eye roll. "With my boyfriend?"

"Well, no, I'll take the single bed. Gendry can share with Rickon, or you or Jon can!"

"Sansa," Arya sighed, shaking her head. "No one wants to share with Rickon! He's been wetting the bed ever since he started getting those night terrors."

Sansa folded her arms over her chest, teeth worrying her bottom lip as she tried to come up with another excuse or a possible solution.

She was just about to suggest that it would be less inappropriate for Theon to share with Jon when Arya said: "Besides, I'm finally getting to spend some alone time with Gendry. I'm not giving that up because you're too stubborn and stuck-up to let Jon into your bed!"

"I'm not- What did you just say?"

"Nothing," her sister answered, staring back at her with a blank face, and Sansa glared right back at her

"Fine!" she snapped, throwing her hands up. "I'll do it, but I'll hate every minute of it!"

***

Jon was already in their shared bedroom when Sansa entered. She tried not to look at him as she carried her bag to the corner of the room, too stubborn to just drop the thing and back out of the room so she could go back to avoiding him. 

But she couldn't leave without saying something or acknowledging him in some other way, could she? She wrung her hands together and took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself before turning to face him. 

The moment he entered her vision, she caught him looking away. Had he been staring at her? Was she imagining that the tips of his ears were tinged red?

"Jon?" she asked softly.

He looked up at her again with that permanent frown on his face, which left her unsure whether he was unhappy about something she'd done, annoyed by something else or maybe simply had a headache. She hated those pouty lips, and what she hated even more was that she always found herself wondering whether they'd feel as soft as they looked like if she were to kiss him.

Sansa had decided that Jon was quiet, boring, rude and annoying, but then why did she want to twine her fingers throught those messy, tousled curls? And why had she daydreamed about him sneaking into her room at night to growl into her ear about all the filthy things he wanted to do to her?

She shook her head, chasing away her inappropriate thoughts before a telltale blush could betray her and cleared her throat.

Jon was still staring at her, one brow arched as she'd stayed quiet for a little too long.

She pulled the sleeves of her sweater down over her hands and licked her lips. "How do you want to do this?" she mumbled.

Jon gulped. "What?"

"Yeah, do you have a preference?"

He stared at her. 

"Which side of the bed do you want?" she asked, rolling her eyes. 

"I don’t _know_, Sansa," he said, slowly enunciating every word as he angrily picked up his hoodie from the foot of the bed. "Maybe I'll just sleep on the floor. Would that make you happy, Princess?"

Her mouth fell open as heat flushed her face. _Shit. _He'd heard her earlier. Of course he had. Or maybe Arya had told him. She could practically hear her sister fuming how stuck-up, prissy Sansa had thrown a fit about having to share a bed with Jon Snow. 

She crossed her arms over her chest in a defensive gesture. "Don't be ridiculous!"

"Ridiculous," he muttered, pulling his hoodie over his head. " I'm being ridiculous."

"Just choose a side of the bed so I can get settled," she told him, almost wincing at her own haughty tone. "_That_ would make me happy. "

His eyes flashed with rage. "Fine. Closest to the door!" he growled, kicking his bag to said side before storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Sansa's felt ashamed, angry and aroused at the same time as she stared at the spot where he'd disappeared.

***

During the day, Sansa easily managed to distract herself from their awkward sleeping situation, and she found it easy to avoid Jon.

The nights however, had become her own personal hell. It was impossible for her to sleep with Jon lying so close to her. 

She couldn't decide which occurrence had been more awkward: the time when she'd cuddled up to him in her sleep, her hand fisted into his shirt, and a baffled Jon had asked her what she was doing, or the moment when she had to get up to pee and she hadn't been able to move Jon's heavy arm that was slung over her body without waking him.

Tonight was their last night together, and they were both exhausted, but Sansa still couldn't sleep. Judging from Jon's tossing and turning next to her, neither could he. 

Sansa could feel her eyes growing heavier, but then Jon turned again, for possibly the twentieth time that night, and he pulled the covers with him.

"Can you _please _stop doing that?" she hissed.

"Stop doing what?" he grumbled.

"Keeping me awake with your _restlessness_!"

"I am _restless _because I can't sleep," he growled,"and you with your loud breathing and sighing and huffing are the reason_ why _I can't sleep, so maybe you're the one who needs to _please _stop doing that!"

"What?" she asked. "Breathing?"

"No," he mumbled, and Sansa hated herself for being able to imagine the way he must be pouting. "But you could at least _try _to do it quietly!"

"Have you always been this grumpy?" she asked him.

"Maybe it's just your delightful company," he muttered, but she could hear the smile in his voice. 

Sansa opened her mouth and heard herself saying: "D'you know the one thing that always helps me sleep?" She was wishing she could bite off her tongue as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

"What's that?" he asked.

She should be physically unable to answer his question, but somehow she whispered: "An orgasm."

He was quiet for a moment, but then he barked out a laugh. "I can't exactly rub one out with you lying next to me. That would be..."

"No!" she was quick to say, agreeing with him. "That would be..." She licked her lips. "But I could help you."

"You could what now?" he gasped. 

"I could help you," she whispered.

"Excuse me, what did you just say?"

"Well, neither of us is able to sleep, and you seem to be rather, um, tense, so, we could, you know, have sex, if you want to," she stammered, biting down on the duvet as soon as she'd finished to keep herself from screaming.

"Why would you want to have sex me?" Jon asked, not hiding his complete shock. "You hate me!"

"I don't hate you," she mumbled, grateful for the cover of darkness dark. Even if he was looking at her right now, he wouldn't be able to see her flushed cheeks or the way her eyes were tightly squeezed shut. 

"You have an odd way of showing that."

She slammed her fists down on the duvet. "Ugh, it's true, Jon. I don't hate you. I really don't. I'm just trying to cover up my intense sexual attraction to you by pretending to dislike you."

She could hear him gulp. "Intense sexual attraction?"

"It's called belligerent sexual tension. You should google it," she bit back.

The silence was killing her. Would he follow her if she tried to leave right now?

"So you're... sexually attracted to me?" he asked, disbelief still colouring his voice. 

She rolled her eyes. "How many times are you going to repeat that, Jon?" _No need to rub it in my face. _

"Are you sure we're not asleep?"

That was a weird question. "Positive."

"Oh."

"Oh." she repeated. "_Oh_. Is that all you have to say?"

Suddenly, Jon grabbed her and pulled her on top of him, making her squeal.

He clasped a hand over her mouth. "Will you _please_ be quiet? You'll wake up every single person in this house!"

They glared at each other, his hand still covering her mouth as she planted her knees on either side of his hips.

"What are you doing?" she whisper-shouted when he removed his hand.

"I'm not good with words," he rumbled, pulling her down by the neck to crush her lips to his in a bruising kiss. 

She nipped at his lip in retaliation, too dazed to reflect on what was happening. 

He hissed and twisted his fingers into her hair, his free hand sliding under her shirt. "This is me showing you I'm also intensely sexually attracted to you."

As his thumb brushed the underside of her left breast she rolled her hips, rubbing herself against his clothed crutch. Now was definitely a good time to stop thinking. 

His head dropped back and he groaned, grabbing her by the hips to guide her movements as he roughly cupped the side of her face to pull her in for another kiss.

She managed to stay quiet and hide her surprise when he flipped them over, but a low whine escaped from her throat as he braced himself on one arm and his teeth scraped her neck.

His free hand slipped under the elastic of her pyjama bottoms and into her knickers to grab an ass cheek as his mouth started sucking on her collarbone. 

She raked her nails down his back and slid her hands back up to twine her fingers through his curls, steering his mouth to her clothed breasts. 

His palm was rough and warm against her skin and he dug his fingers into her soft flesh, snapping his hips to press his erection into her core, squeezing her ass in time with his thrusts. 

His mouth closed over her nipple, sucking hard, and she bit down on her lip to stifle a moan.

When he sat back on his heels, she whimpered at the loss of contact, but quickly lifted her hips off the bed to help him when she realized he was trying to tug off her pyjama bottoms and knickers. 

He pushed her shirt up to lick at the underside of her breast, but his tongue quickly started working its way south.

She shuddered as she felt his hot breath fan against her core and then again at the first stroke of his warm, gentle tongue sliding through her folds.

_Gods,_ he was good at this. She was an idiot. How long had they know each other? She should have let him eat her out ages ago.

It didn't take him long to work her up. None of her exes had ever been able to bring her so close so quickly. She'd never been with a man with a beard before either, and she found rather liked what it felt like against the insides of her thighs. 

"Oh yes, right there, Jon!" she whined, and then he stopped. 

"What-

In the dark she couldn't see the grin on his face, but she could hear it in his voice. "Wouldn't want you to fall asleep too soon, would I?"

He started licking her again at a languid pace, lapping at her entrance and following the outline of her lower lips before his tongue found her clit again.

She dug her fingers into the mattres and lifted her hips to meet his mouth. This time, he brought her to the edge even more quickly than before. 

"Gods, yes!" she cried out. "More, don't stop! Please, make me cum, Jon!"

But he didn't. He pulled away from where she wanted him and pressed a couple of soft kisses to the inside of her thigh, letting his beard scrape against the soft skin there to tease her even more. 

"Is this why you've been so difficult?" he asked, propping himself up on one elbow. "Were you really that desperate for me to make you cum?"

_Seven Hells, _maybe she did hate him after all! _Fuck, no, _she actually loved this unknown side of him, especially that smug, deep voice she'd never heard him use before.

"You talk too much," she pouted. "I like you more with your head between my legs."

He chuckled. "You'll have to try to be a little more quiet though," he warned her. "Or I'll stop again."

When he lowered his head again, she quickly carded her fingers through his hair so she could keep him where she needed him.

She tried, she really tried, but when her orgasm took her, and white light danced behind her eyelids, his name kept falling from her lips like a prayer, and she didn't care how loud she was anymore.

She pulled him up to kiss him, moaning at the tangy taste of her arousal on his lips, helping him out of his shirt so she could explore his chest and arms and shoulders. 

Still kissing him, she reached down to push his sweatpants down and wrap her fingers around his cock, giving him a quick couple of strokes.

"Wait," he told her, trying to move off her, but she wrapped her legs around his waist to keep him close.

"Condom," he muttered against her lips, and she let him go.

"You have condoms here?" she asked.

He switched on the bedside light and she saw him shrug before she could cover her eyes against the brightness.

"I like to be prepared."

When her eyes had grow used to the light, she saw him lean back against the pillows to tear open the foil and roll the condom down his shaft. 

When he'd finished, he patted his thigh. "Come here," he told her. "You promised to help me, remember?"

Heat swirled through her body and her clit throbbed at the growly, commanding tone of his voice. Perhaps later she'd feel embarassed at her eagerness to obey him, but right now, she couldn't care less.

She pushed herself up on her knees and took off her shirt, tossing it away as she watched his hungry eyes roam over her body. 

She climbed over him and braced one hand on his chest, reaching down to line him up with her entrance. She met his darkened gaze and shifted her hips, letting the tip of him slip into her, and clenched down on him.

She smirked down at him as she took in the tense set of his jaw and then she impaled herself on his cock, letting him stretch her open as his hands settled on her hips again.

She let out a shuddering breath of relief at the feeling of being filled up by him and rolled her hips slowly, teasing him, using him for her own pleasure. 

She licked her hips to hide her smile when his fingers bit into her skin, betraying his frustration.

She lifted her hands to cup her breasts, pinching her nipples between her thumb and index finger as she continued her slow and delicious pace, rubbing her clit against his pelvis with every roll of her hips.

If he wanted a show, she could give him one, and as far as she could tell, he was enjoying himself.

His lips were slightly parted and he was panting as his eyes travelled up and down her body, taking her in.

"Sansa," he groaned. "This is torture." He grabbed her hips more tightly and thrust up into her.

She took his hands and guided them to her breasts. "Don't," she told him. "I'm close."

His head dropped back with a grunt and his eyes fluttered closed.

Her climax was soft and slow this time, and she let it wash over her, closing her eyes as she took her time to enjoy it.

Then she braced her hands on his chest and started riding him hard and relentlessly. The bed creaked violently and the headboard slammed against the wall, but she didn't care anymore, and neither did Jon. 

"Fuck yes, ride me Sansa!" he cried out. "You're so fucking gorgeous, so wet for me!"

She pumped her hips and bounced up and down on his cock as his hands roamed over her body.

"_Seven Hells_, I'm close," he groaned. "I don't want this to be over yet!"

She slowed down, contemplating what to do for a moment. Should she give him a break, or should she show him no mercy and make him peak?

Before she could decide, he grabbed her hips again and braced his feet on the matress to drive himself harder, deeper and faster into her. 

"Fuck it, I can't stop. You feel so good," he grunted. 

She whimpered at the change of angle and pace and moved against him, meeting him thrust for thrust, only their panting and the wet sounds of their coupling filling the room. 

"Are you close?" he asked her.

She moaned out a "yes" in confirmation.

"_Seven Hells, _Sansa, I'm cumming!" he cried out, and his hips stuttered.

She was right there with him, following him over the edge, and they collapsed in a tangle of sweaty limbs.

She could feel his heart beating wildly against her cheek, and they were still panting in unison. After a couple more moments, he gently pushed her away so he could get rid of the condom.

When he returned, she hid her face in her pillow, but then she decided she could be brave again. She shuffled closer to him and nuzzled at his shoulder, splaying a hand on his chest.

She could feel his body tense up for just an instant, but then he relaxed again. 

"I like to cuddle, afterwards," she told him.

She could feel him smile against her skin as he pressed his lips to her forehead. 

"Yeah, me too," he answered, and after a short silence he added:"Maybe we should stop pretending and do that more often," burying his face in her hair.

She reached up to cup his cheek and make him look at her. "I'd like that," she whispered, nudging his nose with her own. 

***

Gendry rolled over in their shared bed, swinging a heavy arm over Arya's waist and palming her breast.

"We're leaving today," he rumbled into her shoulder.

She wiggled her ass. "I know that, stupid. You're not very subtle, are you?"

"You like my lack of subtlety," he answered, nipping at her earlobe. "But that's not what I meant."

"What is it then?"

"Your plan failed," he pointed out.

She turned around in his arms and narrowed her eyes at him. When she was sure he was referring to the plan she assumed he was referring to, she punched him in the shoulder and barked out a laugh.

"Were you even here last night?" she asked him incredulously.

"Of course I was!" 

"Then how in Seven Hells did you manage to sleep through _that?"_

He blinked in confusion. "Sleep through what?"

She wrinkled her nose. "The creaking of the bed, the moans, the mewls, the groans, the headboard slamming against the wall."

"Are you fucking serious?" he laughed.

"The cries of _"Oh yes, right there, Jon!" _she continued._ "Gods, yes! More, don't stop! Please, make me cum, Jon!"_

His face darkened. "Hey, cut that out!"

"I can't believe you missed: _"Fuck yes, ride me Sansa! You're so fucking gorgeous, so wet for me! Seven Hells, I'm cumming!"_

She rolled out of his embrace, kicking away the covers to jump out of the bed.

"Why are you upset?" Gendry asked her. "Isn't this exactly what you wanted to happen?"

The sexual tension between Jon and her sister had been palpable, and them finally banging had been long overdue. But despite their tense snapping and snarking at one another, Arya had thought she _knew _them. They were both kind, gentle and soft-spoken people.

She had assumed that when they finally had sex, their lovemaking would be tender, sweet and vanilla, and most importantly, respectfully quiet. 

"Not really, no," she snapped. "I never expected them to be so loud!"


End file.
